


Murder Most Inviting

by Peekaboodesu



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bi-Lance, Drama & Romance, Everyone is guilty of something., Gay Keith (Voltron), Gay Sex, Gratuitous Smut, M/M, Moral Ambiguity, Murder Mystery, Public Blow Jobs, References to Clue | Cluedo, Sit down we’re gonna solve a crime., and people are going to die., klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:28:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23385988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peekaboodesu/pseuds/Peekaboodesu
Summary: “Leaving so soon?” Being caught off guard annoys Keith, he schools his face before turning to take in the person speaking to him. “You should stay, let me buy you a drink.”He wants to be bothered by this guy’s sad pick up attempt, but as he gives him a once-over, he is pleasantly surprised.Lance is incredibly attractive, tall and tan, with crystalline blue eyes and a charming smile.Keith figures one drink with this adorable stranger won’t kill him...Lance and Keith have an intimate encounter at dinner party neither were formally invited to.If they make it out alive they might grab breakfast.
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	Murder Most Inviting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChromeHoplite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChromeHoplite/gifts).



> Hi there! I’ve been watching a lot of Murders Mysteries as of late and decided the boys needed their own whodunnit. I’m having a lot of fun plotting and planning and I hope you have fun reading! 
> 
> A huge thank you to my beta chromehoplite! Who should probably have a co-creator credit for the mass amounts of help and love she supplies.

***

_Keith Kogane was supposed to meet a friend at the home of some big shot CEO who was throwing a party, celebrating some new important project his company was launching. However, she had failed to show, leaving Keith alone in her boss' home, surrounded by strangers. After a quick glance at his watch, he threw back the last of a scotch. The alcohol was smooth on its way down, warming him, eating away at some of his nervous edge. He wants another, but more than that, he wants to get out of here. The clink of his glass hitting the bar is lost in the din of the crowded parlor. The guests continue to chat in various arrangements, with glasses of expensive liquor in hand. The normalcy of the social gathering makes it feels like there are ants under his skin. He really needs to get out of here now, pulls out his phone, sends a quick text, turns to leave._

***

On the other hand, Lance McClain has been here for just a short while, and for him, the night is still incredibly young. He’d arrived with his buddy, Hunk Garrett, who had quickly ditched him in favor of discussing antimatter, fusion and other science-y stuff that Lance has no interest in.

To be fair, he might have been the one who ditched Hunk. It was still early in the night and not all the guests had arrived. Still, there were enticing characters here; with any luck, maybe he’d be leaving with one of them. 

Ever the social butterfly, Lance found himself putting on airs, mingling with anyone who would entertain him. He was just finishing up a chat with a young woman, Romelle something-or-other. She had a French Canadian accent, was blonde and beautiful with bright green eyes that sparkled in the room's warm lighting. The way her eyes were constantly wandering during their chat, told Lance she was very uninterested in him. He did manage to flesh out that she was the assistant to one, Allura Altea, wife to Lotor Altea (an unfortunate name), tonight’s host. He had yet to see either one of them, but he hadn’t met everyone in the room yet; surely he would recognize them if they were here, anyone would. You couldn't exactly miss people at the top of the Who's Who list, especially when they were leaders in the tech world, rubbing elbows with the powers that be. They even had political ties; their company Altea Industries having contracts with the department of defense. Arms dealers to the military. And boy could they throw a party, in the way only the social elite knew how, swanky and expensive.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m actually here not as a guest, but to work,” the blonde said, her attention pulled elsewhere. “I need to get back.”

“Oh that’s too bad, it was nice meeting-“ but she was already on the move. “You too.” He finished under his breath, dejected. Shot down, direct hit.

Never one to let rejection get him down, Lance scans the room for his next target.

Oh hello.

He took the form of a tall, dark and oh so delectable drink of water, standing alone at the bar. He’s kinda like a gorgeous contradiction, masculine but soft, sharp angles but pretty features, built but lithe. Immediately, Lance wants him.

He watches the dark-haired male like a tiger stalks its prey, because that’s what he is now, prey. Up until then, Lance’s flirty advances have been nothing more than working the crowd. Now, his attention is fixed. 

As he stands there, Lance notices that the man has a nervous edge to him, indecipherable to most, but Lance is honed in and he can see it. One might think it was silent confidence, only further solidified by the cool indifference on his face, but Lance can tell. It’s too put on. There’s a slight rigidness in his posture, an anxious uncomfortability, his eyes sweep over the small crowd, never lingering on one person. It’s more like he’s searching for something or someone.

Lance thinks maybe he can be that someone. Maybe he can help get that tension out.

He makes his way over to the bar, eyes never leaving the beautiful stranger. Watches as he up-ends his glass, follows the liquid as it’s swallowed, throat bobbing with the effort. Everything about it is alluring, makes him want to imagine his lips pressed against the skin there.

His focus goes to the man’s nimble fingers as they work over a small device, and then slides downwards with the motion of a phone being tucked away into his rear pocket. And isn’t that a fine sight? His utter absorption with this stranger is pulled away as the other male shifts to leave. Briefly, the thought ‘hate to see you leave, but love to watch you go’ flashes in Lance’s mind, followed by panic, because he can’t have that. He has to make a move.

“Not leaving already, are you?” He says catching the other's attention. He lets his eyes trail the man from head to toe before meeting his dark gaze. Obvious in his attempt to check him out. “You should stay, let me buy you a drink.”

He braces himself as irritation washes over that flawless face. It quickly returns to that bored indifference, melting into a pleasant surprise when he too gives Lance a once over.

“The drinks are free,” the stranger deadpans, but the smirk that accompanies it is coy and playful. 

It feeds Lance’s confidence and he hums his agreement. “Even better.” Turning to signal the bartender, “Two, whatever he’s drinking...”

“Macallan, twenty year. Neat,” the other supplies.

“The name’s Lance,” he says leaning against the bar. “You have expensive taste.”

“Well Lance,” grabbing his freshly procured liquor, “when in Rome.” 

Lance watches as he downs the drink in one go. He pushes his own drink over and signals for another. “Aren’t you going to tell me your name?”

“Is it important?”

That coy smirk again.

“Well,” Lance says, pausing to swallow his drink, “i'd like to know what name to moan.”

The bark of laughter that follows is as abrupt as the line he dropped.

“That is both bold and presumptuous.”

“Yeah, but something tells me you like that, Mr.--” he leaves the statement a question and an invitation.

“Just Keith.” 

“Well, Just Keith, want to go exploring?”

***

“Christ, this house is huge,” Lance muses, as they turn yet another corner that leads to a dead end.

“I take it you don’t have an intimate familiarity with the top one percent,” Keith teases, pulling Lance down a corridor off from what smells like the kitchen.

“Oh, what and you do?” Lance questions, stopping to pull Keith to him, simultaneously backing him against the wall. 

They’ve spent the last who-knows-how-many-minutes like this: roaming the huge mansion, stopping every so often to make out in brief perceived moments of privacy, but always on the prowl for something a little more permanent.

“Something like that,” Keith breaths out in between eager kisses and wandering hands.

“Hmm... sounds like vague avoidance to me.” Keith ignores Lance’s sarcasm and pushes him away in favor of checking out a spiral staircase he had been heading to. “Where do you think it leads?”

“Looks like down,” Lance smirks. “Whaddya know… that’s just the direction I was heading.”

Keith rolls his eyes as Lance chuckles at his own failed attempt at a joke. He advances nonetheless down the dimly lit hole in the floor tugging the cute idiot with him.

The staircase opens into a huge stone room with shelf after shelf of vintage bottled wine. The contents of this cellar are easily worth a small fortune. It’s cool and smells earthy, down here the music and conversation are merely a distance hum. 

Jackpot.

A whistle echoes through the room as Lance takes in his surroundings. Keith perches against a wall and watches as the other man wanders back and forth between the case, reading labels and commenting on the various bottles and their outrageous costs. 

Keith is briefly forgotten with Lance’s new fascination. His earlier anxiety returns without the handsome distraction and he can’t have that , so instead he pointedly clears his throat, demanding to be acknowledged again. “You a wine connoisseur?” He asks with an air of boredom in his voice.

It has the desired effect because in an instant, Lance is making his way over, that cocky self-assured smile beaming on his face; and why shouldn’t it be there? Keith was hooked the moment his eyes met those endless ocean blues.

“I’ve been known to enjoy the finer things now and again,” Lance responds, invading Keith’s space. He pulls Keith by the hips, synchronously pushing against him.Their lips meet in a clash of eager nips and kisses, their former urgency returning.

Lance's lips are soft against his own, and when he licks into his mouth he can taste faint traces of the Macallan they shared. It’s flavor is just as good as the first time, maybe better.

He can’t help but melt into it, into the other man, whose kisses leave him feeling heady, who leaves him gasping for air, licking and nipping along the sensitive skin of his throat.

Strong hands splay over his hips, rubbing up his sides and back down the curve of his ass. Lance’s fingers dig in, squeezing hard, toeing the line of painful before relaxing and working their way back up. This time they take the bottom of Keith's shirt with them.

In turn, Keith’s hands glide up Lance’s chest pushing his jacket over his shoulders. Sadly it causes the hands sliding along his skin to fall away. Before the jacket even has time to hit the ground they’re back on him, this time tugging at his belt and pulling it free.

Lance falls to the floor with Keith's pants, on his knees in front of him. He mouths at the damp spot forming on his underwear as he drags them down the expanse of the firm flesh that is Keith’s thighs.

Keith’s breath hitches. 

Things go from zero to sixty as Lance wraps those soft lips around him. His mouth falls open with the sensation and he nearly manages to hold back a throaty moan. He’s achingly hard and leaking, the added wet heat of Lance’s mouth gliding over his cock like silk is sinful. It makes his toes curl. He shudders with the effort to not push forward, but then again, he really wants to, so does it anyway.

He rolls his hips gently in a slow fluid motion, fingers softly scratching along the side of the other man’s scalp before locking into his chestnut hair. He’s careful not to make Lance choke and his patience is rewarded when Lance relaxes this jaw and takes him all the way to the base.

Keith holds him there, with Lance’s throat contracting around the tip of his cock.  
“Fuck,” he groans out, as he looks down to find the blue looking back at him. Lust courses through his veins and blazes through his core.

A resistance at his hands signals him to let go and he does, fingers shifting as Lance pulls back and then sinks down again. And again, and again. He sets a steady messy pace, one that makes Keith weak in the knees. Especially when he feels Lance’s spit-slicked finger circling his hole. The sensations are so intense and the press in is unrelenting. It’s almost overwhelming and he knows he’s shaking. And fuck Lance is really good at this.

The feeling of being stretched, paired with the constant slide of that soft mouth and endless eyes on are driving him crazy. He can’t stand it, it’s so much and he’s so close. He says as much and still, Lance continues his tongue swirling and finger working, and-

“Holy f-fuck!” Keith comes. His body jerks and tenses. And it’s like an electric light radiating through him. The pleasured release leaves him in slow waves from a centralized point, until finally, he’s left out of breath and sliding down the wall to where Lance waits.

Watching Keith come undone is the hottest thing Lance has ever been lucky enough to witness. He almost can’t believe he’s the cause of sending him into such a state. It goes straight to his head because, fuck, the guy is just so beautiful. Is it possible to fall in love with a perfect stranger? He didn’t used to think so, and to be honest he doesn’t think so now. But hell if he doesn’t feel a spark of something as he takes in the other man, kneeling face to face with him.

He’s flushed and out of breath, unable to hold himself up with hair framing cherry bitten lips, and lust lidded eyes. Eyes like galaxies changing from navy to violet, the light shifting with every breath he takes.

Lance rushes forward, closing the distance, pressing their lips together, licking into his mouth.If Keith is put off by the taste of himself on Lance’s tongue, he makes no fuss about it, instead, he pulls him closer, hands dropping to hook his pants. And with the same urgency they had since they met, Keith gets him out.

“Where?” It’s a whisper against his ear. Lost as he is with Keith’s wandering hand, he almost misses the meaning of the question, but quickly catches on, eyes flicking around the room. 

“The racks,” Keith huffs out his amusement at his response, pulling away to stand, dragging Lance with him. They stumbled in their attempt to cross the room, Lance backing Keith toward the wine, still attached at the lips.

The kiss ends when they gracelessly hurdle into the wine rack. Keith winces and bottles shake as the rack rocks.

“Oh shit, sorry,” Lance says, looking contrite, hoping he didn’t just fuck this up. He needn’t have worried because the devious smirk curling Keith’s lip says he’s anything but bothered by it.

“Hey, you break, you buy.” 

To Lance that almost sounds like a challenge. Keith’s leg over his hip feels like an invitation. One he doesn’t hesitate to accept. With one hand, he guides himself into Keith, and with only spit to help along the way, it’s slow going. The squeeze is tight, full of friction, but it feels fucking amazing.

Keith’s eyebrows knit together and his bottom lip is trapped between his teeth digging into the plump flesh. He’s worried that it might be too much for him, but the low moan he lets out as Lance bottoms out tells him he’s fine.

“Ready?” He pants into Keith’s neck.

He doesn’t get a response, just feels a quick nod and Keith’s fingers tighten in his hair. That’s all the confirmation he needs before he pulls back and snaps is hips forward.

They both groan together and it echoes around the hollowed room. The wine rack shakes, the confined, sumptuous liquid rolling in lazy waves inside, smooth and fluid to match Lance's pace.

“Harder!” Keith begs, breathy and needy. The sound just does something to Lance and he can’t help but give this gorgeous boy what he wants.

His thrusts become more forceful and it has Keith scrambling for something to hold onto. It goes crashing to the ground, startling them both.

They pause looking from where the bottle fell and back to each other.

Keith laughs, and he doesn’t stop. Lance wants to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, but he can’t. The tight heat around him contracts with Keith cracking up. He can’t help but push further into it. 

It shuts Keith up.

“Christ, you feel so good.” He sings his praises into Keith’s damp skin, and resumes fucking into him at that brutal pace. Four more bottles fall to their death before Lance is filling Keith with his release.

***

“Oh man, this place is a mess,” Lance whistles, taking in the fresh devastation as he traverses the minefield shards of glass. There is probably a couple months of his salary worth of Grand Cru pooling on the floor.

“Don’t worry, they pay someone to clean that up,” Keith offers as his fingers work over the buttons of his shirt. Once again, Lance can’t help but be fascinated by Keith’s hands, even more so now that knows how skillfully strong they are.

“Hey, are you okay?” Keith looks up, confused as to what Lance means. The other man tilts his head, pointing out the blood on the back of his cuff. 

Keith’s surprised to see it there and hurriedly shrugs on his jacket effectively hiding the stain. “Oh, yeah it’s fine. I just cut myself on the glass,” he assures, waving it off as nothing. “I’m starving, how about you?”

“I could definitely eat,” he agrees, leading Keith back up the spiral staircases. He feels exhilarated and happy. “Oh man, I could go for pancakes, do you think the top one percent eat pancakes?” He questions, taking Keith’s hand as they turn the corner, trying to find their way back to the grand hall. “My buddy Hunk makes the best pancakes. Shit, I just left him, he’s probably looking oof-“ he doesn’t get to finish. Keith yanks him back and pushes him against the wall.

“Do you always talk this much after sex?” He doesn’t get to answer that because Keith’s mouth is on his. He could really get used to this. Kissing Keith, that is. He relaxes into it. Returns it. Then he breaks it.

“Is that going to be a probl-”

He doesn’t get to finish that either because he’s cut off by piercing screams that echo loudly through that cavernous mansion.

“SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE, THERE’S BEEN A MURDER!”

**Author's Note:**

> Dun, dun, dun.... Any guesses on who our dead body is? Let me know your theories.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated!
> 
> I can be found on twitter and tumblr @peekaboodesu


End file.
